01-07-2011, 03:03 AM
The turbulent rocking of the shuttle awoke her, her face slamming into the window just inches away from where she sat. Her eyes popped open, and she looked out of the glass portal, seeing almost nothing but complete, arid, untamed desert, for as far as the eye could see.
In the midst of all of this wasteland — meriting, Iris supposed, the ‘almost’ in her previous statement — was a large, glass dome, sitting idly on the landscape. Inside, it looked like a normal city; one you might find on Earth, if a bit shabbier and less shiny than their human-constructed counterparts. This, she guessed, was where they were to be landing, as the desert seemed anything but hospitable to this motley band of travelers.
Another wave of wind collided with the ship, and it tipped to the right, sending Iris flying over toward the aisle. She caught herself, thanks in no small part to her seatbelt and the arm rest she was clutching as if it were her last life line, and took a deep breath, refocusing herself.
“Apologies for the turbulence,” the grizzly voice of the captain spoke over the intercom, “Mercy’s got some wild weather. We should be landing any minute now.”
Iris’s eyebrow raised — so they’d gotten all the way to Mercy while she slept. Bracing herself for more turbulence, she turned back to the window and continued to look out of it. The environment below seemed, as she had first thought, harsh and inhospitable; gusts of wind blew sand in every direction, and she could see clumps of it smacking against the side of their ship. Luckily, the winds at this altitude couldn’t support the weight of stones or anything that heavy, so the outer hull looked to be safe for now — but, of course, Iris couldn’t help but worry.
As they grew closer to the dome, the civilization that lay within its glass walls seemed more like a town or a trading post than an actual city. The buildings were brown-tinted, and had shingled roofs, and couldn’t match the sterling metallic brilliance of West City’s skyscrapers. It was surprisingly primeval, but the many alien species that walked the streets — or, at least, the different colored dots that Iris assumed were different species — only added to the mystifying aspect of the planet. It was only at this moment that the brown-haired telekinetic realized that this may not have been the most wise place to choose on her first expedition from Earth.
The girl hadn’t, as must be assumed, done anything that exceeded the normal boundaries ever in her life. Her parents had died, and she had been left an orphan, to be raised by a maternal figure in her life that had no blood relation at all to her. Perhaps, to some, this was abnormal, but in her world, she had speculated that with the death and destruction that had plagued the galaxy, her situation was far more commonplace than most people liked to believe.
Up until the previous evening, however, she had literally done next-to-nothing that could be counted as peculiar, or special, in any way. She had gone to high school; she had dated boys; she had lost her virginity at seventeen, a fact which she was still hesitant to reveal to Stephanie; she had gone to college; she had been to college parties, though she would admit she had never exactly been a party girl; and she had graduated from college, and from that point, set herself up with an interview, and expected to get a nice job she could use to support herself and Stephanie.
Of course, that was where it had all gone wrong — the accidental activation of her powers, for one thing, powers which she had known nothing of, and still knew very little of, no more than the basic functions, and the succeeding spiral into panic, paranoia, and, eventually, punishment.
She hesitated to call this punishment, however, if only because if it was, indeed, punishment, then it would most definitely have been self-inflicted. Which would make her a masochist. Iris had never really been one to dwell on labels, but that didn’t seem like something that she wanted to think of herself as. So, perhaps, it was better to not call it punishment, but… paradise? No, that gave it a positive quality, which it most definitely did not have — however, it was a vacation from her life on Earth, so paradise would fit. In the end, as she leaned back in her seat and took in another deep breath, then exhaled, she decided that whatever this experience was, it was tip-toeing on the line that separated punishment and paradise, and the only way she was going to find out which it was, was to actually do it.
There was a conflict, though — inside of her. She was afraid, scared, paranoid, even; she was so far away from Earth, where should could be hurt by anything, but here… here, she could be hurt by everything, and no matter how much she decided that this had be done, that this was a part of whatever preplanned destiny had been planned for her, she couldn’t help but feel that fear tugging at the hairs on her neck, begging her not to go through with it, to just ask the pilot to turn around and take her back to the safety of her little blue planet. It was too late now, though. She had signed up for this job, and she was going to do it, whether it killed her or not.
In the midst of all of this wasteland — meriting, Iris supposed, the ‘almost’ in her previous statement — was a large, glass dome, sitting idly on the landscape. Inside, it looked like a normal city; one you might find on Earth, if a bit shabbier and less shiny than their human-constructed counterparts. This, she guessed, was where they were to be landing, as the desert seemed anything but hospitable to this motley band of travelers.
Another wave of wind collided with the ship, and it tipped to the right, sending Iris flying over toward the aisle. She caught herself, thanks in no small part to her seatbelt and the arm rest she was clutching as if it were her last life line, and took a deep breath, refocusing herself.
“Apologies for the turbulence,” the grizzly voice of the captain spoke over the intercom, “Mercy’s got some wild weather. We should be landing any minute now.”
Iris’s eyebrow raised — so they’d gotten all the way to Mercy while she slept. Bracing herself for more turbulence, she turned back to the window and continued to look out of it. The environment below seemed, as she had first thought, harsh and inhospitable; gusts of wind blew sand in every direction, and she could see clumps of it smacking against the side of their ship. Luckily, the winds at this altitude couldn’t support the weight of stones or anything that heavy, so the outer hull looked to be safe for now — but, of course, Iris couldn’t help but worry.
As they grew closer to the dome, the civilization that lay within its glass walls seemed more like a town or a trading post than an actual city. The buildings were brown-tinted, and had shingled roofs, and couldn’t match the sterling metallic brilliance of West City’s skyscrapers. It was surprisingly primeval, but the many alien species that walked the streets — or, at least, the different colored dots that Iris assumed were different species — only added to the mystifying aspect of the planet. It was only at this moment that the brown-haired telekinetic realized that this may not have been the most wise place to choose on her first expedition from Earth.
The girl hadn’t, as must be assumed, done anything that exceeded the normal boundaries ever in her life. Her parents had died, and she had been left an orphan, to be raised by a maternal figure in her life that had no blood relation at all to her. Perhaps, to some, this was abnormal, but in her world, she had speculated that with the death and destruction that had plagued the galaxy, her situation was far more commonplace than most people liked to believe.
Up until the previous evening, however, she had literally done next-to-nothing that could be counted as peculiar, or special, in any way. She had gone to high school; she had dated boys; she had lost her virginity at seventeen, a fact which she was still hesitant to reveal to Stephanie; she had gone to college; she had been to college parties, though she would admit she had never exactly been a party girl; and she had graduated from college, and from that point, set herself up with an interview, and expected to get a nice job she could use to support herself and Stephanie.
Of course, that was where it had all gone wrong — the accidental activation of her powers, for one thing, powers which she had known nothing of, and still knew very little of, no more than the basic functions, and the succeeding spiral into panic, paranoia, and, eventually, punishment.
She hesitated to call this punishment, however, if only because if it was, indeed, punishment, then it would most definitely have been self-inflicted. Which would make her a masochist. Iris had never really been one to dwell on labels, but that didn’t seem like something that she wanted to think of herself as. So, perhaps, it was better to not call it punishment, but… paradise? No, that gave it a positive quality, which it most definitely did not have — however, it was a vacation from her life on Earth, so paradise would fit. In the end, as she leaned back in her seat and took in another deep breath, then exhaled, she decided that whatever this experience was, it was tip-toeing on the line that separated punishment and paradise, and the only way she was going to find out which it was, was to actually do it.
There was a conflict, though — inside of her. She was afraid, scared, paranoid, even; she was so far away from Earth, where should could be hurt by anything, but here… here, she could be hurt by everything, and no matter how much she decided that this had be done, that this was a part of whatever preplanned destiny had been planned for her, she couldn’t help but feel that fear tugging at the hairs on her neck, begging her not to go through with it, to just ask the pilot to turn around and take her back to the safety of her little blue planet. It was too late now, though. She had signed up for this job, and she was going to do it, whether it killed her or not.